


Voice of My Soul

by howellperfect



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Soulmate AU, this was written at 3am so don't expect it to be awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howellperfect/pseuds/howellperfect
Summary: “your voice perfectly suits the melody of my my soul.” soulmate!au, where Dan is aware that Phil and him are made for one another. he attends Phil’s concert, hoping to tell the latter about it.





	Voice of My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> there's the first fic ever that i'm going to publish, so enjoy. or not [hopefully you will]  
> just a drabble to satisfy people  
> also say hi on tumblr: @howellperfect

I’ve heard your voice hundred times. It was coming from the radio, cars, cheap coffee shop, in which my friends works; your voice is everywhere. It wouldn’t matter to me if I didn’t keep the secret only two should share, but this time there was another one.

Your voice perfectly suits the melody of my soul.

That’s how people work. We have to be together.

And here I am. Standing in front of you. There is a huge fencing, big security guard, and one and a half meter high stage between us.

I look at you and you look even more beautiful up close. I need to touch you, I need you to know that your voice was made for the melody of my soul.

I am whistling the tune and not taking my eyes of you.

You can’t help but hear me.

You can’t help but know.

When you finally look at me, I am suddenly freezing. I’ve seen so many photos of you and your glance has always been warm. What I see now… is that aloofness? Hatred?

I am freezing in my sweatshirt, standing in the fan zone with a bunch of half drunk teenagers. It feels like when I ran out of my house at the Christmas Eve in a single t-shirt; I’m covered in goosebumps.

I am scared and I want to get as far away from you as possible. And when I took a step back, you suddenly chuckle, forgetting about the mic, and nod.

You take a step back and grab Charlie, your bassist, who looks so much like me, which disgusts me, and you kiss him roughly, probably, biting his lip so it’s bleeding.

Can you be gentle? I’m taking another step back from the ability to know the answer to so many questions.

I’d love to count every single freckle on your body, even though they appears only on your shoulders.

I’d love to sing a duet with you, even though I can’t hit the notes.

I’d love to cook your favourite food, but I don’t even know if you love Mexican food more than Chinese? And I suck at cooking. Because there is no one, who could teach me. Can you teach me? Another question left without an answer.

I was thinking we had to be together, we were made for each other. But I was wrong.

And those screaming girls that won’t let me escape are wrong. They’re screaming, because their ideal couple, Charlie and Phil, are kissing, they’re screaming and moving forward and I can’t help but moving, too.

They are wrong, because they think Charlie and Phil are the perfect couple. I feel so egotistical, but I want to scream out loud that Phil’s voice was made for my soul.

But I don’t. I’m staring at him, going back to the mic and singing the next line. He’s Intentionally not looking at me. And I’m starting to sing.

Suddenly he’s looking at me again. He’s staring at my lips that whisper memorised lines, memorised at night when I felt so bad, waiting for a moment when my dream will become reality.

But my dream becomes impossible. My voice is drowning at the sounds of screaming girl, when he takes a step towards me.

I can breathe peacefully, but I’m still freezing.

I’m losing the memorised lines.

He’s losing it too. He’s singing the wrong lyrics. He’s singing for me.

“You are a perfect melody for my soul…”

He suddenly wakes up and turns around to Charlie. His voice softens, full of love.

My guttural cry is drowning. I feel like a dying gull. I’m drowning in his eyes, I’m screaming for help, but there’s no one who can hear me.

Seems like I don’t love now, but I do hate.

When I wake up the next morning, my ribs are covered with bruises, but it’s not the reason I’m hurting.

I’m hurting, because my every dream turned to ashes, but I can’t reborn from it. I’m not a phenix, but a giant gull, which hardly can raise the wing.

I’m hurting, because I remember every single moment when he kissed Charlie. I remember him looking with love at him and looking with nothing but aloofness at me.

I’m hurting, because instead of my mom, wiping my tears with her thumb, he was supposed to embrace me in a hug.

I’m hurting, because I don’t hear a hint of certainty in my mom’s voice when she’s saying that all is not lost. It sounds like a humble, awkward, and uncertain question that I want to scream.

I’m hurting, because I scream till I got hoarse, be he can’t hear.

I’m hurting, because I’m not in high school, when after a break up you always have a hope for that perfect voice.

I’m hurting, because he was made for me, but I’m not perfect enough.

I’m hurting, because everything is hopeless and there’s nothing to wait for.

I’m hurting, because all I want is to drown in his ocean blue eyes and burn with his touches on my hips.

But I’m just a screaming statue, frozen in the cold of his eyes.

And all I want is to melt in the rising sun.

But I’m still cold; there are pathways from tears on my cheeks and his hands, his porcelain arms with protruding veins that were made for me, are not wrapped around my waist.

And the most part of me stays at the bottom of the ashtray, where I’m cooling near the wide open window, watching the sun rise.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this thing written at 3am  
> also say hi on tumblr: @howellperfect


End file.
